


Little Did They Know

by GettingMetaphysical



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Boners, Bittersweet, Dom/sub Undertones, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), F/M, Fantasizing, Masturbation, Noisy Sans, Pining, Post-Undertale Neutral Route, Secret Crush, Sexual Fantasy, Soriel, Soul Sex, Spoilers - Undertale Neutral Route, Undertale Neutral Route, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 04:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10529031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettingMetaphysical/pseuds/GettingMetaphysical
Summary: A wet dream leaves Sans hot and bothered with a stubborn, glowing erection. As far as Sans' newly-woke skull can tell, he has two options. Either he gets up on time, joins Toriel for breakfast, and awkwardly explains himself when she notices.Or, he can get rid of the problem right now, and just rub one out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Not my first Undertale smut, but certainly the first I post here, since it's short and sweet. Enjoy!

_BRRRRRRIIIING!_

Sans woke up face-down and tangled in his bedsheets. The cover lay askew over him. He was still panting as the alarm died down. A wet dream? Huh. Been a while since he had one of those. Ages, in fact.

There was also a pretty pleasant pressure coming from his lower body. 

Really? When’s the last time a wet dream had been strong enough to manifest his genitals? In his teens? Fuck if he remembered. He shifted his hips, stood up a bit on his knees and elbows to look. In the dark under the covers, it bathed his frame in a dramatic cyan-blue glow. There it was, jutting out from his pelvis and ready to go. His cock.

Sans groaned, and not out of pleasure. This could not be more inconvenient. First of all, he wasn’t alone in the house. He could hear Toriel bustling about in the kitchen, making breakfast. Second, Toriel wasn’t a skeleton monster, and probably didn’t know much about how their bodies worked. If something like this ever happened, there should be a polite but unspoken agreement not to question someone staying in their room longer than usual, or blushing ”for no reason”. 

Ugh, no. This was awkward enough. He flopped onto his back, hiding his face behind his arms. The glow wasn't bright enough to show through the covers, but it tingled as the fabric slipped across it.

The point was, it’d take _literal hours_ before his dick would vanish on its own. It took a lot of coaxing to summon, and it took even more effort to go away.

As far as his newly-woke and dazed skull could tell, he had two options. Either he’d get out of bed on time, join Tori for breakfast, and awkwardly explain himself when she noticed. (There was no ”if” she noticed. He’d basically have a lightbulb down his pants.)

Or, he could get rid of the problem right now, and just rub one out.

Toriel knocked on his door.

Sans almost yelped, but it came out as a choked little ”ehk!”

”Wakey-wakey, sleepy bones”, the goat woman crooned.

Oh my god, she was so cute. He felt his face go even hotter. Crap.

”Sans?” she said. ”Are you alright?”

”uh…”

The door opened to reveal Toriel, in her long, conservative nightgown and robe. He still noticed the folds her breasts and belly formed in the fabric.

”Are you coming out to eat? You do not look well.”

”’m fine, tori”, he slurred. ”just… twenty more minutes?”

”Hm.” She leaned her chin on her hand. ”It is not good for you to snooze when you are already awake.”

”heh. i know.” Well. His face was flushed blue, but at least he’d raised his knees enough to hide any suspicious shape under the covers. ”but, here’s a counter-argument: pretty please, with sugar on top?”

She chuckled. ”Alright. But after breakfast, we are going bug hunting.”

”yeah, ’course.”

”Oh, and by the way”, she said, as she closed the door. ”There will be actual sugar on top of your pancakes.”

”nice, t. thanks.”

”No, no, you will have ’T’ _after_ you get up, mister!”

”heh. good one.”

And then she shut the door.

The skeleton threw the covers over his head as he turned back onto his knees, alone in the dark with his cock like a torch. Twenty minutes, where’d that come from? He was lucky he had a habit of sleeping in anyway. But twenty minutes was enough. He could do it in five. It’d be fine. It was natural, after all. No reason to be ashamed. 

Fuck, he just remembered.

The dream had been about her.

Oh, no… He hugged himself under the covers. The dream came back in quick, vivid bursts. His mind started guessing how her big, soft body might look in skimpier, lacy gowns, or in nothing at all. 

Yes, he was in love with his best friend and roomie. No surprises here. He was embarrassed anyway. Even while his hand wandered down to touch himself. She’s _right outside_. Something primal inside him wanted to call her back. He batted the thought away. With gritted teeth, closed eye sockets and his skull buried in his pillow, he began stroking.

It felt nice. But no, just touching wasn’t gonna do it. Not quick enough, anyway. 

She looked gorgeous in that nightgown. The fur on her head tussled from the night’s sleep, her eyes kind and twinkling, her lined face wrinkling as she smiled fondly at him… Oh god. Damn it. I’m doing this, aren’t I…

Just admitting it to himself, just _allowing_ himself to think of her… It sent shivers up his spine. Sans tightened his grip, felt his legs spreading and his back arching. He moaned into the pillow — _no, what if she hears_ — then bit down on it. 

Most people wouldn’t think of him as a loud guy. A fast-talker and a chucklehead, sure, but the chill sort — always kind of subdued. Except in one area of life, which was a secret to everyone but those he’d hooked up with. Thank god for that pillow, muffling his panting, moaning, _grunting_ as he fucked his hands. 

Control yourself, Sans, come on. And yet he let go, because he had to let it out, just a little.

”t-torih”, he whined, huffing between his teeth. ”tori, tori…!” 

Sans loved the way she spoke his name. Even just now, it had sounded sweet and dark as honey.

_”Sans.”_ He imagined her voice as a whisper next to his skull. _”Sans, say my name…”_

”tori… hahh…” He twisted his torso, as if turning towards her. She’d be on top of him, holding him in her furry arms, enveloping him with her plump, warm body. 

_”Come on, sleepy bones — my full name.”_

”toh…ri… el…”, he breathed. ”to-ri-el. Toriel.” 

_”Mmm. Good.”_

His other hand went to stroke his spine, like he wanted her to do. Another glow, this one permanent and white, became bright enough for its shape to be seen. His soul pulsed inside his ribcage, keeping pace with his strokes. 

_”You want this so badly, don’t you. You’ve wanted this for years.”_

He nodded, eyelids shut tight. Impatient, the hand he wasn’t thrusting into roamed around his frame. It rubbed inside his hip bones, squeezed his ribs. Bet her velvety hands could fill his ribcage, bet her thighs could wrap around and smother his spine. She’d dip her fingers in her wet cunt and let him lick them clean.

_”Oh, my sweet. My Sans. So eager.”_

”mmmh, yeah…” 

He’d realise later that her next words were directly from the dream:

_”Knock, knock.”_

He chuckled. Knock-knock jokes during sex — what a woman!

_who’s there?_ he thought.

_”Come for.”_

_come for who?_

Her voice would be a breathy moan, so close to the edge herself:

_”Come for me, Sans.”_

Ohhhh fuck, that’s it. He grunted and closed his teeth around the pillow. _There_ we go…!

The smart thing to do would be to aim his length down and come on the sheets. Then he’d recover quickly, get dressed and hopefully act cool around his roomie. However, right now he wasn’t smart. Right now all he was was horny, and lovesick, and aching for more, for her, for any kind of reciprocation, since he was too lazy or too unsure or too damn afraid to confess. Even if it was just a fantasy, it was an extremely good fantasy. And he did not want to be smart. 

He aimed upwards, into his ribcage. A wave of pleasure cascaded through his rattling frame. It wrenched a groan from his mouth, loud despite the cushioning, and he gushed all over his quivering soul. 

Heat washed over him. Lightning ran up and down his spine in endless feedback. Sans shouted. His hands clutched and tore at the sheets, desperate to hold on to consciousness. His hips and legs jerked, as if filled with a pinball energy trying to escape him. Tears erupted from his eye sockets. He laughed, muffled by the pillow, feeling his drool and tears wet it.

It was over. 

He laid collapsed on his front. His sex was spent and gone. Slowly, his mind came back to reality. Like waking up all over again. Body still reeling from the experience, though now satisfied. Simply satisfied, and peaceful.

Sans looked at the alarm clock. At first, he didn’t understand the numbers. He blinked a few times. Okay. Four left. Shit, all this took sixteen minutes? 

***

Toriel sat at the dining table in the living room, eating a snails and onions-omelet. In one hand she held the fork, while the other turned a page in a book about lava machinery. She had told Sans numerous times that she would stop reading at the table, as she did not wish to stain any books. But having reading material which was not centuries old meant it was hard to put down. Besides, her roommate was very bad at stopping her. Sometimes, she caught herself only because an oh-so silent Sans kept grinning at her from across the table. She would stare at him, and both would burst into a giggle.

She expected Sans to drag himself to breakfast in the usual manner. He would pour a cup of coffee, greet her in a friendly murmur, and she would let him ”charge up” for a few minutes before they could start chatting. Alternatively, the two would cast each other kind glances as they ate in silence. Sometimes the glances were mournful. They both had days wherein they felt… fragile. 

The point was: although they spoke often and enthusiastically, they did not have to keep up constant conversation. Which was nice.

Twenty minutes had passed since she checked on him. The sound of a familiar, near-silent rattle made her look up, as he sauntered in. 

Sauntered? 

”Greetings, Sans.”

”mornin’, tori.”

The skeleton pulled up a chair opposite her, poured his coffee, and dug into his food with a rarely-seen energy. The boss monster was delighted. Now, mind you, by ”energy” she did not mean ”exceptional speed”. Rather, she got the feeling he had already ”charged up”.

”It appears snoozing did you good, my friend.”

His face gained a strange expression. A sort of mixture of affection and nervousness.

”…yeah. guess it did, huh? whoodathunk.”

Their gazes met. Toriel was struck by this. Something about his face, or the way he looked at her, or how much she cared for him, or…

Oh, this feeling. So simple and complicated.

While he was busy eating, she could not help but study him. His cheekbones were tinted in a light blue. The crew neck t-shirt he slept in was askew. Its collar was wide and worn, revealing quite a lot of his right clavicle and vertebrae. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. That loose collar seemed to invite nuzzling.

Please, Toriel. Do not be a fool. Sure, he loved her dearly, but not in that way. How could he? She was centuries old, and he was in his thirties. For each day that passed, her loneliness beckoned her; perhaps she ought to tell him how she felt. That she thought he became more attractive every day. That she wondered if they could share a bed. That, in a way, he had become the light of her life.

Little did they know.


End file.
